I am from soft blankets.
From the wrm yankee candles,
And the sweet hershey kisses.

I am from the loud noisy house,
With always something going on.

I am from thanksgiving dinners,
From the caring and helpful.

I am from Mike and Tracy,
From the Larsen’s and Kaseberg’s.

I am from the charismatic and talkative,
From the “never give up” and “be who you are”.

I am from the home of religion,
The belief in the holy spirit,
The love of god.

I am from chicago,
Birthed at home.

I am from the warm coffee in the mornings
And the sweet home cooked meals to come home to.

I am from the dad who’s mom went through men like tissues,
Who never really had an actual dad.
And an aunt who had breast cancer but fought with everything and never gave up.

I am from and older brother and sister,
Always a full house.

I am from family game nights,
From the nights around the fire singing along to my brothers guitar.

I am from the fighting and forgiving.
I am from family,
And that is my home.